


When You Sing, Everything’s Beautiful

by Riverthunder



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Peter, Crane Stephen, Gen, Hunter Tony, M/M, Stephen Hurts His Hands Trying to Save Tony, Stephen Trying to Save Tony, Tony Gets Sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-13
Updated: 2018-11-13
Packaged: 2019-08-23 03:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16611230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riverthunder/pseuds/Riverthunder
Summary: Tony and Stephen are the perfect pair. Tony hunts, they tend their little garden, and raise their son together.However, one day, Tony falls ill, and Stephen must do everything in his power to save him...even if it means losing him forever.





	When You Sing, Everything’s Beautiful

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by _Seasonal Feathers_ , specifically Lyrratic and SirHamnet’s English Lyrics.
> 
>  _Seasonal Feathers_ Japanese Version: [Here](http://www.nicovideo.jp/watch/sm22711324)  
>  _Seasonal Feathers_ English (Lyarratic & SirHamnet) Version: [Here ](https://youtu.be/y0dvRMnmN2w)
> 
>  
> 
> _From wintery slopes above the world below_  
>  _Like feathers shimmering white; fluttering falling snow_  
>  _Just the two together waiting embracing tight_  
>  _Frozen breath, hand in hand; a tiny village at night_

Tony held Stephen in his arms, smiling almost lazily as they sat before the warm, crackling fire. The blizzard outside was raging mercilessly, wind throwing snow against the small cottage as if to use the many flakes to knock it to the ground.  
Tony ran his fingers through Stephen’s hair, and the taller man leaned into his touch, a small smile playing on his lips as face.  
“It was a day like this,” Tony hummed. “Do you remember? When we met?”  
Stephen suddenly flushed as the memory came rushing back. “Let’s not talk about that,” he said, turning to hide his face in Tony’s sleeve as the shorter man chuckled at him.  
“If you say so.”

~(*)~

Spring bloomed a few short months later, melting the harsh winters’ frosts and bringing blossoms back to the pair’s garden, and bringing animals back into the open, making Tony’s work much easier.  
Spring also brought new life.  
Tony sat in one of the chairs outside the cottage, rocking the bundle that held their newly adopted son, Peter, inside. The small boy was dozing now, softly crooning in his sleep.  
Stephen stood a few paces away, smiling at the birds fluttering around him. One perched on his outstretched finger, another on his shoulder.  
Tony smiled at Stephen, looking especially fond of him. “When you sing, everything’s beautiful,” Tony said, watching the birds perching on Stephen.  
Stephen blushed, but beamed back at his husband, still singing. Could that be true?  
Stephen continued to sing, now keeping his eyes on Tony, who held their sleeping son and smiled right back at him, his brown eyes alight with happiness.

~(*)~

Later that night, while Stephen fed Peter, he glanced at Tony, curiosity burning in him.  
“Tony?”  
“Hmm?” His husband didn’t look up; he was, very carefully, polishing his bow.  
“If….” Stephen trailed off, unsure of whether or not he should ask the question.  
“Yes?” Tony looked up now, curiosity piqued.  
“Tony, if...if one day, my voice was gone, and I couldn’t sing anymore...if I’d never be able to sing ever again...would you still love me the way you do now?”  
“What brought this on?” Tony asked curiously, eyes on Stephen, though his husband was keeping his gaze firmly on Peter, who stared right back at him.  
“Never mind.”  
Tony smiled to himself, and ignored Stephen’s dismissal of his own question. “But of course,” he said. “It was you I fell in love with, Stephen. Not your voice.”  
Stephen felt his blush returning. He didn’t say anything. But….somehow, he knew that that was all he would ever want.

~(*)~

The summer heat was pleasant, and Stephen was happy to spend the days working in the garden while Peter dozed in his bassinet, tucked in a shady spot.  
Tony sat working a few rows away from Stephen, picking vegetables. He was coughing a bit to himself, and Stephen flinched; Tony had been sick for a bit now, and it didn’t seem to be improving.  
Stephen tried to focus on his own work, but at a particularly bad hacking cough he looked up, and was horrified to see scarlet blood covering the hand over his husband’s mouth.  
He leaped to his feet, dropping his basket. The vegetables scattered on the earth, forgotten. Stephen ran to Tony, crouching beside his husband as he continued to cough up blood.

~(*)~

Tony was very ill. His sickness was deadly, but treatable….if you had money.  
Tony was a hunter, who didn’t make much, and Stephen stayed at home, tending to their garden, and now raising their son.  
They didn’t have the money to pay for Tony’s medicine.

~(*)~

Stephen was not going to let anything happen to Tony. He was determined to save his life, while continuing to provide for Peter.  
So, every day, as long as Peter and Tony, now confined to bed rest, did not need his immediate attention, Stephen was hard at work at his loom, weaving beautiful tapestries, clothes- anything he could think of.  
Every day they didn’t have the money, every day Tony stayed sick- it broke Stephen’s heart. The days were painful to live through. But he was determined.  
Summer drifted away, giving way to autumn. The leaves were starting to die and fall away from the trees.  
The sight of the leaves dying and falling to earth scared Stephen. It felt as if Tony’s life was in just as much danger as the autumn leaves’. He couldn’t stop the leaves dying. He couldn’t stop time.  
But he _wouldn’t_ let Tony die.  
He _couldn’t_ let Tony die.  
Peter needed them both.  
And Stephen needed his husband.

~(*)~

The seasons were changing. The ending of summer was signaled by the final goodbyes of the crickets. Their chirps would soon be gone until the next year.  
Stephen had worked his fingers down to the bone in his effort to earn the money to save his precious Tony’s life. He had been wrapping his hands in clumsily applied white bandages, which were splattered red with his blood.  
Tony caught sight of the bandages one evening, and after chastising Stephen for not asking him to help apply them, he insisted that his husband sit beside him while he tended to his injured hands.  
“I’m sick, not useless,” he complained to Stephen.  
Stephen sat quietly beside Tony, eyes downcast. He felt ashamed. Tony was supposed to be trying to heal, not worrying about him.  
As Tony removed the final bandage, he smiled, taking Stephen’s hand in his own, examining his long, nimble fingers. “You have such beautiful, talented hands,” Tony murmured.  
Stephen felt like flinching at the words.  
Tony’s hands held Stephen’s wounded, raw hands in a very familiar, gentle way; but all Stephen could think about was how cold his husband’s hands were, like Tony was made of ice.

~(*)~

“Tony,” Stephen murmured, and he saw Tony look up.  
“Yes, my love?”  
Stephen could feel the heat rising in his cheeks, but he tried to fight the blush.  
“Tony, if one day...my hands were... _ruined_ , forever, and I could never weave again...if I’d never be able to do things so precisely or skillfully ever again...would you still love me the way you do now?”  
One of Tony’s icy hands moved to cup Stephen’s face, and he gently coaxed Stephen to look into his eyes. “But of course, Stephen,” he murmured, a kind light shining in his brown eyes. “It was you I fell in love with, my darling,” he said, gently kissing Stephen’s cheek. “Not the things you can do.”  
He pulled away then, moving his face to cough into his sleeve.  
Stephen looked down at his hands, still held clasped in Tony’s. Somehow, despite the ache, everything felt better.

~(*)~

Stephen worked almost madly. He rarely slept, he skipped meals. Despite his sickness, Tony was quick to take care of Peter. Stephen was stressed enough; he sometimes got so absorbed in his work he didn’t even realize Peter was crying until he had been for a few minutes. Tony wasn’t sure Stephen realized that Peter’s nursery was essentially deserted now- he’d moved Peter’s things into their bedroom to make it easier for him to care for the infant while his husband desperately weaved to save his life.  
Meanwhile, Stephen was weaving frantically, with no care for his injured fingers- he needed more money, he needed to save Tony, he needed to keep his family together-  
But the feathers were running out.

~(*)~

Stephen sat alone, staring at the loom, feeling terrified.  
“Tony…” he murmured, knowing a response would not come.  
“If… if I changed...if I wasn’t the same….If I wasn’t _human_ ….would you still love me the way you do now?”  
No, he could never really ask Tony such a question. Tony would be horrified. He would never see his husband again… he would never see Peter again… he valued his family too much to ever breathe a word of the truth with Tony anywhere nearby.  
Instead, he reached out, catching the final feather as it drifted to the ground.

~(*)~

Stephen felt arms wrap around him, and one familiar strong yet icy hand gripped his wrist gently. He felt a hint of warm breath on his neck.  
“But of course,” whispered Tony. “You think I would ever for a second stop loving you, my Crane?”  
Stephen thought his heart had stopped. “Wh-what?”  
“Did you really think I didn’t know?” Tony’s voice was playful and teasing, despite the weakness. “The crane that was caught in one of my traps seasons ago, the one that I set free. The one who flew away so gracefully on beautiful wings. I knew it was you when you came to my little cottage in the winter looking for shelter.”  
Stephen felt tears pricking at his eyes. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  
“For what?” Tony’s voice was gentle, kind. “For making me happy? For taking care of Peter and I? For being so selfless?”  
Tony rested his chin on Stephen’s shoulder. “You did so much for me, Stephen. You gave up so much. I promised you years ago I would always be there for you, and I’m always going to keep that promise. If your wings no longer work, I’ll love you twice as much to make up for it.”  
Tony wrapped his arms around Stephen’s shoulders, hugging him tightly. “I’ll always remember how beautiful you looked taking flight after I freed you from the trap, how happy you looked to be free, just like I’ll always remember how shocked but happy I was to see my Crane return to me as lovely, tall silver fox.”

~(*)~

“I will always love you, my dear Stephen,” Tony murmured. “No matter what happens, I will always love you just the same as I do now, unless I love you more.”  
A cry pierced the air, and Tony smiled against Stephen’s neck. “I’ll go take care of Peter,” he murmured, reluctantly pulling away, pausing to brush a fingertip across the soft feather in Stephen’s hand. “Thank you so much, my Crane, for everything you’ve done for me and our son. I love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> _And as always, for forever, 'til the end I'll love you as before_
> 
>  
> 
> Please feel free to follow me on tumblr!  
>  Riverthunder’s Tumblr Blog
> 
> Or to follow my Marvel RP Blogs!  
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End file.
